


Stomach Tied In Knots

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> Imagine you just started college and a boy with black hair who always sat in front of you would always ask for a pen. After a month of this daily routine you would hand him one before he could even ask you. Eventually one day you ask him why he just never buys pens and he tells you he actually has pens he just needed a reason to talk to you.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Their fingers brush as he hands Phil a pen and he swallows. Phil’s hand is warm and his fingers are soft and Dan would give anything to hold Phil’s hand once, because Phil’s hands are perfect: long, bony fingers with wide palms that narrow down into slender wrists and forearms and –</p>
<p>“Thanks!” Phil whispers, giving him one last smile before turning back to take notes on what their professor is currently rambling on about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stomach Tied In Knots

**Author's Note:**

> so i got this prompt like 7 months ago but i never got around to writing it!!!! i really hope you guys like it, i’m sorry if it sucks i have a writers block atm....

 

It’s not that Dan hates uni. He doesn’t like it, no, but he doesn’t exactly  _ hate  _ it. The coffee is shit, the weather is shit, the people are often rude and don’t even take time to talk to him because hey, he doesn’t have any friends. The worst thing about it, though, is the absolutely horrible beds in the dorm rooms, because  _ Jesus fucking Christ _ , his back has never hurt more, and that includes the time he bruised his ribs when he fell out of a tree at seven years old.

So no, he doesn’t like it. He’d say he despises it, but despite trying to major in English Lit, he can’t find a word to properly describe the feelings he has for, well,  _ everything _ .

“Late again, Mr. Howell?” his professor asks as he runs – it probably looks more like waddling to be honest, but hey – into the classroom. He just nods as he leans against the doorpost, trying to catch his breath and maybe he should’ve taken PJ up on his offer to join a gym because he can’t even walk down the stairs without panting.

“Be late one more time and I’m afraid I’ll have to contact your mentor!”

Dan just nods and goes to walk up the steep stairs to the nearest empty table – he really doesn’t want to walk any further than necessary, especially when there are stairs involved – which just so happens to be the one behind Phil Lester.

Phil Lester, also known as the only reason Dan doesn’t hate uni and the bane of PJ’s existence, whom Dan has been obsessed with for the past two years and whose Instagram account Dan  _ stalks _ . He once made PJ look it up and PJ had laughed at him for days because yeah, Phil was the kind of guy who wore beanies and took pictures of Starbucks cups, but he was also the kind of guy who had a million dollar smile and  _ amazing _ eyes. Dan didn’t stand a chance.

He sits down as his professor continues the lecture – their current subject is Toni Morrison and Dan couldn’t be more disinterested, but they’d get to the good stuff soon – and he winces as the chair scrapes against the floor, an awful screeching sound that has almost everyone in his general vicinity turning around and glaring at him. He tries his best to go for an apologetic shrug, but they’ve all gone back to making notes so no one takes much notice.

Oh well, it’s not like they usually pay attention to him anyway.

As he sets his pencil case on his desk and goes to grab his notebook, someone whispers, “Hey, Howell, do you have an extra pen I could borrow?”

He shoots up, narrowly avoiding banging his head against his desk, to stare at Phil, who’s watching him with a smile, the smile that Dan has written poems about when drunk – multiple times, R.I.P. PJ – and he nods, his throat dry and unable to produce a sound, because oh god, Phil is smiling at him. At  _ him _ . At Dan Howell, the biggest nobody in the English Lit seminar.

Their fingers brush as he hands Phil a pen and he swallows. Phil’s hand is warm and his fingers are soft and Dan would give  _ anything _ to hold Phil’s hand once, because Phil’s hands are perfect: long, bony fingers with wide palms that narrow down into slender wrists and forearms and –

“Thanks!” Phil whispers, giving him one last smile before turning back to take notes on what their professor is currently rambling on about.

Dan’s heart is still pounding when the bell rings, and his cheeks only cool down when his break is over.

* * * * *

 

“Dan Howell, I swear to God, if this is about Phil “oh my god PJ I’m so in love with him please save me” Lester again, do me a favour and go find someone else to annoy.”

Dan scowls down at his laptop, the seemingly eternal smile on his face disappearing for a second before starting up again. PJ groans, and Dan watches as he buries his head in his hands, scrubbing them furiously over his face before looking up with a deadpan expression.

“What did he do this time? Did he drop something and bend over so his ass was practically in your face? Did he come in again in a wet white t-shirt? Did he start bringing kittens with him everywhere?”

“No, you asshole,” Dan snorts, wishing PJ was sitting beside him on his bed just so he could push him off. “He asked me if he could borrow a pen.”

“Praise the lord!” PJ smiles, clasping his hands together and looking up at his ceiling. “Dan almost held hands with someone! His two year long dry spell is finally over!”

“You don’t understand! PJ, he  _ smiled _ at me! And I didn’t say a word to him because I was speechless. And he asked me something! I think I’m going to die!”

PJ rolls his eyes, scoffing as Dan pretends to faint. “Slow down, you hopeless drama queen. It’s not the end of the world.”

“ _ This is the end of the world as we know it _ ,” Dan sings, almost a knee-jerk reaction. “No, seriously though, I think this might be the first sign of the apocalypse.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s Dean Winchester going to Hell. Anyways, I need to go because I think Sophie is in need of assistance.”

“Sure!” Dan says. PJ and Sophie are high school sweethearts and probably the most adorable, vomit-inducing couple Dan has ever seen in his entire life and Dan used to be a pretty hard-core Destiel shipper back in the day. “Say hi to her from me.”

“Will do,” PJ smiles, waving at the camera. “Bye!”

The skype window disappears when Dan signs off, and he flops onto his bed, beaming up at the ceiling.

Phil Lester talked to him. There’s nothing – absolutely  _ nothing _ – that could make this week suck.

* * * * *

 

Dan probably shouldn’t be allowed to think anymore, because of course things could get worse. Namely, Costa somehow running out of coffee beans when he desperately needed his daily caffeine fix and instant coffee wasn’t cutting it anymore, so he had to go to Starbucks and spend five pounds – five whole pounds! It’s almost as if they thought students had a lot of money! – to get a decent Latte. Which he then, of course, ended up spilling. All over someone’s jacket.

“Oh my god!” he shouts, trying to grab napkins for damage control. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I bumped into you and fuck-“

“It’s okay,” the person he bumped into says, a warm hand covering his to stop his desperate – and hopeless – attempt at removing the stains. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dan swallows, biting his lip as he looks up and  _ oh my god, how is this his life _ . Phil stares down at him, amusement in his eyes even though Dan just drenched his fucking jumper in coffee, and Phil’s hand is against his, squeezing his softly before Phil lets go. Dan can feel his cheeks go red and quickly drops his hand to his side, awkwardly fiddling with the belt loops of his skinny jeans.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking down at Phil’s Converse – which are also soaked with coffee – but Phil just laughs, a sound that has Dan looking up.

“It’s okay!” Phil says, his voice clear with laughter as his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ll just wash it, no problem!”

“Phil, what’s going on?” someone behind Dan asks. Dan almost jumps, too lost in his internal monologue about how  _ nice _ Phil is to expect someone to be standing there. When he turns around he finds that it’s Louise – which, of course it’s Louise, everyone knows she’s practically Phil’s second mum.

“Nothing to worry about,” Phil says, smiling down at Dan one last time before he walks over to her. “See you later, Howell!”

Dan’s left stammering for the next hour.

 

* * * * *

 

“As many of you probably already know, a theme that reoccurs in Shakespeare’s plays is guilt.”

Dan nods, penning down the words of his professor as he talks about Shakespeare. He probably doesn’t need to, considering that he knows all of Shakespeare’s plays by heart and could probably recite the entire “to be or not to be” speech, but he does anyway. 

He’s writing something in his notebook when someone taps his shoulder.

“Hey, Howell, can I borrow your pen again?” Phil whispers and Dan’s feels shivers run down his spine at the closeness of Phil to his ear, the way his breath fans out of the back of Dan’s neck.

“Sure,” he says, his voice sounding broken even to his own ears as he hands Phil a pen.

“Thanks,” Phil smiles and Dan barely finds it in himself to nod.

The skin of his neck tingles for the rest of the day, and Dan can’t even bring himself to hate it.

 

* * * * *

 

Okay, so maybe the worst thing about uni aren’t  _ exactly _ the horrible beds in the dorms, though they’re a close second. The most horrible thing about uni are the walls. He doesn’t mean the ones he has to walk past when he goes to a lecture, the ones that are filled with graffiti. He’s talking about the paper-thin walls between the dorm rooms.

He’s had multiple complaints before because he was talking too loud to PJ. Granted, his voice is loud and when he’s talking to PJ it’s often more like shouting, but he’d never had that particular problem before he moved into his dorm room. 

Unfortunately, talking isn’t the only sound that permeates the walls. He’s used to hearing some - well -  _ questionable _ sounds at two in the morning when he can’t sleep. The guy living next to him has a girlfriend, which is great for him, but Dan really doesn’t need to hear how much they enjoy each other. 

He feels his cheeks grow red as the moans grow louder and louder. Focussing on his book isn’t really an option when the people in the dorm next to him are screwing each other’s brains out. He slams it shut, grabbing his jacket as he walks out the door. 

The air outside is refreshing, if not a little cold. It bites at his cheeks - and he probably should’ve grabbed a coat, but he doesn’t really want to go back now. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets, trying to get them to warm up, even though he knows it’s futile because his hands are always cold regardless.

His trainers look kind of depressing, a hole in the fabric where his toe pokes through whenever he shifts his weight. He should probably buy a new pair, but let’s be real: a twenty-one year old student doesn’t really have  _ that _ much money.

“Louise, shut up!” he suddenly hears someone shout. He glances up, swallowing reflexively when he sees it’s Phil. Phil’s wearing his trademark beanie and a long coat, thick-rimmed glasses framing his face perfectly as he glares at Louise, who’s laughing into her hands. “I do not like Dan Howell!” 

Dan promptly stops walking, half-diving behind a tree as Louise continues laughing, her head thrown back. “No you don’t,” she says in between giggles, “You love him.”

His heart starts pounding, his face heating as Phil’s cheeks grow red, because  _ holy shit _ Phil might actually like him? After Dan’s been pining after him for  _ two freaking years _ ? 

Phil and Louise walk away, and Dan can’t hear them anymore, but he isn’t sure he could hear anything over the pounding of his heart. 

* * * * *

 

“Hey, Howell, can I borrow another pen?” Phil whispers to him, his hand already reaching out to grab one from Dan’s pencil case.

This is probably the fifth pen Phil has borrowed in three weeks, and no matter how bad he is at saying no to Phil, even Dan has his limits.

“Why don’t you just buy your own pens?” he asks, and oh god, can’t he take that back? Phil’s hand stops centimeters away from his, and he can feel the warmth radiating from Phil’s skin. Phil blinks at him in confusion, before – and Dan swears to god it happens – his cheeks grow red.

“Well,” Phil starts and then stops, biting his lip, his eyes darting every which way as if he’s looking for an escape, which is so not happening. He continues when Dan raises a questioning eyebrow, but the red on his face doesn’t disappear and Dan kind of wants to rub his fingers over Phil’s cheekbones. “I kind of needed a reason to talk to you?”

“You could’ve just asked,” Dan says, his voice quiet and he’s not sure if Phil’s heard it, until he catches sight of the smile on Phil’s face.

“Mr. Lester and Mr. Howell!” their professor promptly shouts. Dan’s face burns as everyone turns around to look at them. “I’m sure what you’re talking about is very interesting, but it’d be nice if you could focus on the topic at hand.” 

Dan nods, handing Phil another pen as he turns back around. He can almost feel the way Louise’s stare burns into his back, and he shifts under the scrutiny. 

At the end of class, he gets the pen back, together with a note containing a phone number. Phil winks at him before walking away with Louise, and Dan can’t do anything but stare. 

How the hell did he get so lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> welp that’s it! please let me know what you thought of it aaah <3
> 
> [come hang out with me on tumblr!](http://demisexualhowell.tumblr.com)


End file.
